Protest Against Unclean Stubble #11
I was standing there with numb feet. Gigantic glass windows, a huge piano and golden chandelier. The moon was concealed by a cruel dark cloud and the howling wolfs were sufficient to scare the life out of anyone. I was trying to figure out where am I, when I heard a sound. It lead me to an old wooden wardrobe. I was terrified, still I unlocked it.
"Don't Woo me. I'm not a kid. Who are you? And what are you doing in this junk?"
"Aren't you afraid of me? I'm a ghost."
"Very funny! Ghost? You are wearing a tuxedo. You are shining like a groom, smelling like a vanilla cake and you are asking me to believe that you are a ghost?"
"Then how a ghost suppose to look?"
"Well I haven't seen any ghost earlier, but I guess they should be scary, scruffy and smelly."
"That's pretty unfair. I like wearing decent clothes and I hate that unclean stubble. Should I disappear to prove that I'm a ghost?"
"Anyone can disappear in such a dark room. Don't be lame. Tell me how to get out of this place?"
"Come with me."
"What were you doing here, alone?"
"I told you I'm a ghost. I live here alone."
"Listen that ghost thing, I don't believe this. But if you wish I'll be your friend. You look quite a decent guy."
"You will? Okay Friends!"
"Look sun is rising. You can come with me, my home is...."
"When I turned, he was not there mom. Was he really a ghost? His clean shaven look has bowled me over. I wanted to know him more."
"Go to sleep sweetie, you need rest."
Jerry (the ghost) was standing outside her window, blushed and bid adieu her forever.